The Blood Games
by Humans.Are.Weird
Summary: Every few years, the event known as the Blood Games begins in Skyrim. Three tributes from each Hold compete in a battle to the death. But not only do they have to fight. They must survive too. Who will be the next victor of the Blood Games?
1. Prologue

"Welcome to the 31st annual Blood Games!"

The crowd in Solitude went wild. People from every hold, ranging from Winterhold to Falkreath, had come to watch the Blood Games. What is the Blood Games?

Three tributes from each hold are chosen. A warrior, a mage and a thief. Once they're in the grounds, the bloodbath begins. Last one alive is titled Champion. The Games are being watched by the High Queen's court wizard casting a spell onto a brick wall, projecting the events in the grounds. The rest of Skyrim hears news about the Games from a town crier, who is updated with information by a familiar bringing the news from the court wizard of Solitude. It's rather complex, but people are so interested with what happens that these familiars are like life support.

The hosts were Elisif, Jarl of Solitude and High Queen of Skyrim. The second is Maven Black-Briar, the shifty entrepreneur from Riften. The third host was Jarl Balgruuf of Whiterun.

Elisif spoke loudly to the crowd. "Thank you all for coming here today. As you know, three tributes from each hold will compete in a battle to the death, and each of them will have to not only fight, but survive. Now, let's reveal the first tributes!"

The crowd applauded, cheering loudly in support of their tributes.

First were Solitude's tributes, unsurprisingly. They were Solaris Lucientus, a fiery woman who knew her way around fire. Heisk, a burly Nord whose temper was deadly in battle. And Mjor, a cunning Bosmer that has a way with words, as well as daggers.

"These are your Capital's tributes!" Elisif cheered along with the crowd.

Maven grunted. "Good luck to them."

Balgruuf was more cheerful. "This will be an exciting moment, indeed!'

I, on the other hand, thought otherwise.


	2. Chapter 1

Opening my eyes groggily, I rolled over in my bed, looking out the window. A dense fog had covered the village of Riverwood.

"Enya, are you awake?" My older sister, Gerdur, whispered quietly, her hand resting on my shoulder.

"No," I groaned, closing my eyes again.

I heard her sigh loudly. Then, the blankets were ripped off me, the cold air hitting my skin instantly.

"You have work to do," Gerdur told me, chuckling. "The forest waits for no one, and neither does Faendal."

Sitting up, I glared at her, Faendal was a very imaptient man, even for an elf. Nevertheless, he is my friend. "You're right, Sister. Leave me to get ready."

She nodded, leaving me to myself.

Most women and girls wore long dresses, either well-tailored or not as fashionable. I _hated _dresses. I put on a while long-sleeve tunic, fitting a leather vest over. I pulled a pair of leather trousers and boots. My long red hair was tamed into a plait flowing down my back, two locks of hair framing my pale face.

Ready, I headed out, grabbing my bow and quiver full of arrows. Faendal would have been waiting for me just by the river.

I ran out of the house, going past Alvor's smithy and finally arriving at our usual meeting spot. He was gazing out towards the river, looking glum.

"Daydreaming again, are we?" I called out to him.

He spun around, an irritated look on his face. "Don't you have anything better to do other than tease me?"

I grinned toothily. "This is a small village, Faendal. What else am I supposed to do?"

He tried to keep a serious face, but failed. "So, are you ready to go hunt?" he asked.

I nodded. "Let's not waste any time."

We kept to the shadows of the trees, barely making any sound. I gripped my bow tighter in my hand, taking an arrow from my quiver and connecting the nock of the arrow to the string, resting the shaft on my knuckle. I pulled the arrow back to my cheek, lining up my sight on a doe.

The deer let out a final cry before it fell, my arrow lodged in it's eye.

"Nice kill," Faendal complimented, tying a dead rabbit to his belt.

"Thanks," I said as I pulled out my arrow. It made a horrible squelching noise.

He examined my kill, a glum expression on his face. "Have you seen Camilla lately?"

I gazed down at him, since he was shorter than me. A smirk appeared on my face. She was his love interest whom he was head over heels for. "Yes, why?"

Faendal's crimson eyes darkened. "That bard Sven, he won't leave her alone! I've tried so many things, but nothing has helped. It's like she can't choose."

I started laughing despite myself. Poor Faendal.

"What?" he spat, the tips of his ears going red. "Enya, tell me already!"

"You're in love," I said in a sing-song voice.

He swung out at me playfully, clearly blushing. "Whatever, let's just get back to Riverwood."

Gathering our kills, we ventured out of the forest. As we stepped onto the road, I heard the sound of hooves approaching.

"Enya, step aside," Faendal whispered, tugging my arm, pulling me to the side of the road.

The riders were wearing steel plate armour, long scarlet red cloaks thrown over their shoulders. Their shields bore the Capital's emblem - a wolf's face. These must be the scouts for this years Blood Games. A brutal competition.

"I thought they had found all the tributes already?" I looked at the last scout, who was now approaching us. Great. Were we in trouble?

"You there. What are you doing out here?" the scout barked.

"Hunting, Ser," Faendal replied stiffly.

"You, along with the rest of the hold, are meant to be in Whiterun. The hold's tributes are being chosen." He paused, looking at our kills. "Leave your game. Go there now."

"But this hunt took us all morning!" I argued.

"Leave it!" the scout yelled. "That's an order."

Faendal was clearly furious. But it was against the law to refuse an officer's orders. I dragged my doe and hid it in the brush. By the time we were done, the scout was long gone.

"We really should get going," I murmured.

Faendal let out a huff. "Who do you think will be chosen. Hopefully not me..."

"You won't be chosen," I hissed. "Let's just get to Whiterun."

(Okay, so I'm not too sure if I should keep this one up, so comment on what you think and stuff. Love you ducks!)


End file.
